July 10th: Turtles 8 (3) - Lower Hutt 0 (0)
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| GT dazzles the Oppo with inscutable footwork | Tel and an Oppo start up a wee dance around the ball while others rush to join in the fun |
If not for the quality of our play, or the legacy that is this famous team, then surely for the collective standing in society of the current squad. From the numerous accountants, through the computer experts and sales executives, on past the well dodgy mortgage brokers to the top draw cricketers and golfers, and up to the nightclub bouncer who delights in giving comatose patrons a kicking, the FTFC is littered with fine people who contribute mightily to the rich and colourful tapestry that is Welly. And do the oppo treat us with due reverence ? Do they fuck.
The shabby collection of youths that try to pass themselves off as Lower Hutt Div 5 these days had defaulted the previous week to the Cops. Whether this was due to problems with getting a team together, fears that their latest social security scam would be exposed, or just plain fear of getting thrashed we don't know, but it was a good bet that they may repeat the capitulation against us (we being top of Div 5 by several Khandallah Crescents, them being bottom by several Epuni Roads). Also the AB's were playing at the same time, so a default would fit in nicely, and allow us to patronise our beloved sponsor (The Backbencher, excellent ambience, beer a specialty). But no, we were dragged along to Ben Burn; an absolute affront. The only thing for it was to give them a pasting to improve our goal difference.
The pre-match talk was all "how dare they" etc, etc, but as kick off approached it became clear that, in fact, the oppo had been respectful - they only brought along 9 players, so ensuring we got a nice easy game, and a hatful of goals. Good on them. Lovely chaps. Just to emphasise to us that they were prepared to lie down and receive a good thrashing, they allowed Simon G (of all people) to score within 2 minutes of the start. Free from having to share the front line with the fat, sarcastic Scottish bastard (away in Taupo informing the trout how good a goal-scorer he was), Si looked a new manchild. His new forward partner Tony, actually starting up front this time, gave Si a dinky little through ball, and it was converted first time into the side netting. The oppo almost seemed pleased by this, but stopped short of applauding. As it was, they then put up a bit of a fight, and ran around far too much. On the tufty, muddy surface we had loads of time and space all over the park, but struggled to create openings up front through hurried final balls and inaccurate crossing. It didn't help that Spratty was treating this game as a fitness test. With new boots and a dodgy calf muscle, he gingerly minced his way around in a small area, and contributed little. Shortly after saying he may came off, he got our second goal, and immediately felt better. Tel came up for a corner, and bulleted a header onto the bar. It rebounded up, and was coming down to a defender near the line. This clod stood rooted to the spot whilst Spratty went off, got a stepladder, and clambered up his back to nod in.
After this, the oppo decided to give our defence a bit of practise, bless them. Most of it came down our right, where GT was having a game of two halves. Defence wise, his interceptions and tackling were brilliant, and he covered all threats, but distribution wise he was awful. Wal, ahead of him, spent a lot of time trying to retrieve hairy situations. Dodge, predictably, was sympathetic to GT's problems. Anyway, these attacks were only sporadic, most of the play being at the other end. Don, reffing, wanted some attention, so gave an iffy pen for hand-ball. GT was offered it, but declined for no apparent reason, so Tony was given the job. In retrospect this was a captaincy error, because Tony later admitted he was suffering from a "lack of energy". Still later, he admitted that his lack of energy was due to not having had nooky that morning. (Captain's note - check this prior to every game in future). To cut a long story short, Tony's pen was pathetic. Soon after this, an oppo attack nearly caused embarrassment. A lone marauding forward exposed Dodger's lack of mobility, and waltzed round him to the tune of the foxtrot. His shot was feeble however, and gave Snouter enough time to get down and palm it around the post. As you can imagine, this entire episode lasted about 6 minutes.
Back up front, Spratty was feeling better all the time, and played a delightful little ball through for the Weas to run onto. To the surprise of many present, this chance was converted clinically. At the half-time break, Snouter pronounced our performance as "crap". To remedy this, Tel and Si were brought off for Don and Blobby, about an even weight trade. GT went up front and Tony went wherever he damn well liked. After some initial resistance, the oppo caved in nicely, (although the order of the goals reported here may not quite reflect reality). Don's forward surges were causing some problems for them, and after one of these he squared it from the right. An oppo defender got in on the fun by tapping it under his own keeper. Next up, Spratty jinked away down to the right by-line, and lobbed it back across goal. Two Turts awaited, one of them GT. He rose majestically with a complete lack of timing, and just managed to get an eyebrow on it for his first of the season. With that, GT trotted away to right back, allowing the great man (Bobby) forward. The oppo cringed at the sight of this mountain of a man standing on halfway, wobbling ominously. Very soon they felt the full brunt of his presence. The skipper progressed down the left, and gave Weasel a crossing opportunity. His low effort to the near post looked well marshaled by two defenders and the keeper, but then a shadow fell. Like a Klingon cruise ship, Bobby entered the six-yard box, and it was immediately crowded. Panic ensued, and the ball rebounded off a stressed defender and in.
A short time later Don thrust forward on the left. As Linda squeaked excitedly on the sideline, he beat two defenders and laid it forward for Spratty to run on to. Those famously warped little legs threw back the years and lunged forward to flick it over the oncoming keeper. Now, dear reader, you may be getting the impression that the game by now was totally one-way traffic. Far from it. With Tony and Don lusting forward after glory, there were plenty of holes at the back, and on occasions the backs were out-numbered (work that out). Dodge and GT had to make several last gasp stops, and Snouter was several times called on. One of these was a one-on-one, but he has seen it all before, and kept his goal intact. The last goal action of the game was a piece of poetry. Weasel went to take a corner on the right, and put it short for Wal. It was put back for the Weas to cross, and there could be only one target. From out near the edge of the box, Bobby came to meet the cross, and, with a flick of those famous black locks, nodded it over the despairing keeper into the top corner. Spectators wept with the beauty of the moment. Probably. If there had been any.
The oppo continued to respect our wishes by changing quickly beside the pitch and departing rather than clutter up the changing rooms. Lovely lads.
Footnote : The writer of this report, having been away a while, wonders what all the fuss is about this Gordie chap. 16 goals in two games and he hasn't got one of them. Hmmmm.